Ficly

Not Cut

The room smelled like him after. I remember when I used to lay in bed with the sheets under my nose after he left, just trying to catch that smell. Now it’s making me sick.

My hair smells like cigarettes, but not my Marlboros, his Camels.
He who never loved me with a butt in my mouth is blowing smoke in my face.

He never thought affairs were all that much to worry about. I’m remembering that’s why I left so fast in the first place. Now I’m every single girl he ever came home smelling like. I am the reason someone else is sleeping alone tonight.

So I guess this is what they mean when they say guilt.

I guess I’m not cut out for this.

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